Watch out, I'm in a mood.
Sadness finally decided to take a break from constantly kicking me in the guts. So that's cool. Or at least it would be cool, if futility hadn't stepped right in to take over the job. To finish the job, perhaps.
But hey, who am I to complain? I keep saying I like this crap. I keep saying that it's better than the fucking nothing I felt for so many years.
I keep saying those things. Every now and then I even believe one or both of them.
Besides, some things deserve to be felt. Not distracted away or bottled up or ignored.